


Freed

by Naughty_Owl (Perching_Owl)



Series: Among the stars [3]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Don't copy to another site, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-26 17:38:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perching_Owl/pseuds/Naughty_Owl
Summary: 'It's okay, I'm fine,' Ash responds. He is anything but. Chris isn't going to buy that either, not with his voice shaking, blood running over Ash's hand and the fact he just pushed Chris off the freaking bed. Only slowly the awareness and comprehension begin to rise within him. His eyes grow unfocused for a moment, blurry with tears as emotions -too many to sort through- wash through him, leaving him empty, only to be filled with panic moments later. He is a mess.Movement draws Ash out of the maelstrom of his emotions, although he still teters on the edge of full-blown panic. Chris has just kneeled down in front of him, expression worried. He freezes though with one hand stretched out as if wanting to touch, but not sure if the touch is welcome. He opens his mouth, closes it and then lets his hand drop before almost raising it again. The indecision is so unlike Chris, it's even more jarring, especially when his gaze flickers between Ash's hand and his face.When Chris finally speaks, his voice is soft, 'What has just happened? And don't tell me, it is nothing. This wasn't nothing.'In hindsight they probably should have set boundaries before deciding to have sex.





	Freed

**Author's Note:**

> I still haven't finished watching the second season - so, it maybe this veers into Canon Divergence. On the other hand I don't really reference canon events so the timeline might be ambigious at best?
> 
> Anyway, so this was actually the second part - except I needed more lead up to it, so it became the third part. And then I took ages posting this part because I wanted to do it justice. 
> 
> And there will most likely be a fourth part because I still have an image of Pike and Tyler on a sailing boat stuck in my mind (because I've been desperately wanting some kind of holidays and live vicariously through my written fanfics).

Ash wakes with a start, eyes snapping open, his brain awake from one moment to the next. His body is tense, the sleepiness that accompanies waking up before the alarm non-existent. His heart races, pounding in his chest.

It doesn't matter that he in his quarters on the U.S.S. Discovery, not when memories still haunt his dreams. 

An arm sneaks around his waist, strong and secure, and it takes some of the tension away. Ash sinks back into that embrace, trying to relax, to calm himself, and tell his bloody mind that he is safe, that is nothing to fear right now. A kiss is placed against the nape, just below his hairline. Of course, Chris is already awake. For some unfathomable reason the man enjoys getting up at an ungodly hour, having a bright and early start into the day - after all the early bird picks the worm. Ash thinks, the early bird can bloody well fuck off to where it came from and stay in bed with him. 

Ash exhales, relaxing into those arms, unfurling from where he is curled on his side. His heart beat is slowing down, finally returning to normal. Still, he cannot help the images seared in his mind. 

'Good morning,' waking up to Chris' voice in his ear is something Ash cannot believe he occasionally does. More than occasionally if someone where to be precise. It's not bad, just something he hasn't realised he could have. He turns around, pushing the dark dreams away, wanting to fully enjoy this. 

Their lips meet, slow and unhurried.

'Do we need to get up?' Ash murmurs, knowing full well they don't need to. 

'No, not yet, we still have time,' Chris' voice is almost triumphant. He pushes closer to Ash, and Ash can feel the other one's cock pressing against him. A smile begins to spread across his face. Chris' hands roam across his chest, gentle and welcome, and yet Ash's mind hasn't shaken off the coldness of the penitentiary. 

He doesn't want to dwell on his memories though, so he reaches for that warm body. Chris sighs, a sound almost swallowed up by their mouths, as he moves against him, one leg thrown over his waist, his hard cock pressing against Ash's hip. 

His own cock begins to harden. Ash tugs at Chris. There is still space between them, still slivers of coldness from earlier remaining in the gap. Chris slides easily onto him, pressing closer, their erections brush. It makes Chris exhale harshly, his cheeks beginning to flush, a smile spreading over his face. Ash runs his hands over that strong back, soft skin beneath his fingers as he traces vertebrae and rips. Letting them drift towards that strong firm arse, he grips those cheeks tight. 

Chris gasps before crushing their lips together in a heated kiss, which Ash returns with just as much passion. He moves off, the weight gone, but his warmth remaining as Chris reaches for the lube beside his bed. Ash lets him, then leans forward, catching one of those nipple between his teeth. He hears a breathless chuckle above him, the other man squirming away. 

'If you continue this, I won't be able to reach tha- ah,' Chris breaks off as Ash leans up, placing his lips against the tendons of Chris' neck and sucking the blood to the surface. Laughing Chris tries to get away again, moving off and away, straddling Ash's lap, his weight pressing down. 

And suddenly nothing is alright. 

He is thrown back to silky sheets, hard thrusts above him and he feels sick, trying to get out from under L'Rell. His breathing is harsh. Coldness washes over him, drowns him. Pain races through him. Above L'Rell makes a noise. He pushes her off, his mouth tasting like blood and rust. 

There is a loud crash. A yelp of pain. He scrambles backwards. Then there is the sinking feeling in his stomach- no, that's not true, he is falling. And then there is another crash, glass breaking wood splintering. He needs to get away from L'Rell. Now. While he still can, and- 

'Damn it!' 

He snaps out of his memories. It's just as sudden as he had been thrown into them. The shift back to reality is harsh, sudden like a red alert. Trying to take a deep breath is impossible. His heart is racing, his throat is tight and pain is racing up his arm. The world around him comes only slowly into focus. He has fallen against the night stand, pushing it over. The glass on it has shattered, one shard embedded in his palm. Blood runs over his hand, onto the floor. Bright red droplets in cold blue light.

Rustling from the other side of the bed makes him grow pale. For a moment panic threatens to close in on him. Then he recalls L'Rell isn't here. Shit. Chris. He tries to get up, but his legs are still shaky, so he remains where he is. 

Chris appears on the other side of the bed, his face pale. His breathing is quick, lips parted, his eyes wide. As his gaze settles on Ash, his expression turns worried. When he speaks, his voice is careful, 'Ash?' It's rough, careful, almost hesitant. It's not like Pike's usual tone. 

Ash tries to get his voice to work, to reassure Chris that everything is fine. That he is handling this. Even though neither is true. But his voice doesn't work, his mouth is too dry. He needs to swallow. Once. Twice. 

Chris shakes his head as if trying to focus on the situation. Then his eyes narrow as he sees the blood. Almost stumbling, he stands up, quickly hurrying to Ash's side. He pauses though, eyes flickering from Ash's hand to his face, not knowing if it is okay to come closer or even touch. 

'It's okay, I'm fine,' Ash responds. He is anything but. Chris isn't going to buy that either, not with his voice shaking, blood running over Ash's hand and the fact he just pushed Chris off the freaking bed. Only slowly the awareness and comprehension begin to rise within him. His eyes grow unfocused for a moment, blurry with tears as emotions -too many to sort through- wash through him, leaving him empty, only to be filled with panic moments later. He is a mess. 

Movement draws Ash out of the maelstrom of his emotions, although he still teters on the edge of full-blown panic. Chris has just kneeled down in front of him, expression worried. He freezes though with one hand stretched out as if wanting to touch, but not sure if the touch is welcome. He opens his mouth, closes it and then lets his hand drop before almost raising it again. The indecision is so unlike Chris, it's even more jarring, especially when his gaze flickers between Ash's hand and his face. 

When Chris finally speaks, his voice is soft, 'What has just happened? And don't tell me, it is nothing. This wasn't nothing.'

Ash shifts, runs a hand through his hair, realises it is his injured hand, and then finally says, 'It's memories.' 

'Memories?' Chris hesitates. 'What kind of memo-' He breaks off, his face ashen, 'Has someone-?' And Ash averts his eyes, which is answer enough in itself. 

Chris stops and swallows. 'Is it something I have done?' 

Ash hesitates, not sure how he could respond to that. It is not Chris' fault, not as such, but he can't denial that what they did lead up to those memories coming back. The pause however is enough for Chris to draw his own conclusion. He grows even paler, sinking back. Even Ash's response doesn't appear to reassure him as finally manages to get out, 'It isn't your fault. You never did anything I didn't want.'

Chris nods, clearly not convinced, face dejected. He carefully reaches out, and Ash holds his hand out for Chris to look at.

Chris takes his hand, soft, warm hands against his. Ash wants to pull him close, kiss him, let himself be held. But he can see the hesitation, the way the other one is just stricken, so unsure and conflicted about what to do. 

'I'm sorry,' Ash knows the moment he says it, it was the wrong thing to say. 

Chris' eyes widen with horror. 'Don't apologise, please,' he pleads. 'That makes it even worse.' he falls silent before asking, 'Hasn't it occurred to you that I should know something about that?' 

'Why? I enjoyed the time I had with you. It was never an issue,' that isn't strictly true, but it is something completely personal, something he had only let a very small number of people know. And he hadn't wanted Chris to know. He had enjoyed the ease with which they both navigated their encounters. That wasn't something he had wanted to change. For Chris he wanted to be whole, to be fun, and for once not have his past intrude his life like this. 

Chris though looks at him, still horrified, mouth pinched. Ash knows if they were to kiss now, he would taste the copper from where Chris is biting on the inside of his lips, the pain a distraction from his emotions, to keep him groundd. 'Because we are sleeping with each other? Because we could have spoken about this, about what -' here Chris breaks off, then continues, 'what you like and what you don't like. I always assumed that was given in any relationship.' 

'But-' Ash starts, then swallows the retort. 

But Chris has already realised what he wanted to say, 'You didn't want to tell me.' 

And Ash nods. 

Chris moves even further away from him. A shiver runs through him. He collapses against the bed. 'Apologies,' He mutters. 'I-' He brushes a hand over his face. Then he takes a deep breath. 'No, this isn't about me,' he mutters, so quietly it is almost inaudible. Then he takes another deep breath, his expression determined as he looks at Ash and asks. 'Is there anything I can do to help?' 

It's like anything Chris does, which is painfully honest and open, even if he is hurt by that. It's something Ash admires, the openess, the selfishness, the conviction. If there was only one word to describe Chris, it would be wholesome. Ash sighs. He lets his head drop back against the wall with a dull thud. The remains of the nightstand dig into his back, but the pain almost welcome. He shakes his head, 'I don't know. I don't think there is.' 

Chris opens his mouth. Ash is almost sure, he is going to say, that there has to be something. But the other man surprises him, 'Alright, then let's get you to sick bay. Your hand needs to be looked at it. Would you like to shower?' 

'I can get this looked at later. I- You should get going. You don't need to stay.' It's a clear dismissal. Or as clear as Ash can make it.

Chris gives him a harsh nod before he stands up. Ash observes him gathering his clothes, putting on his trousers, then shirt and then buttoning up his collar. He brushes his hair back, quick movements, and then hesitates. 'I - we've have been doing this for a while and why haven't you told me? It's not only affecting you, it's also affecting us. You needn't have told me the details, but just something-' 

'Whatever for? It is something I have to deal with,' Ash points out, anger beginning to rise within him. And it's easier to focus on that. Instead of pain. Instead of fear and panic. 

'Of course, you have to deal with it, but you don't have to do it alone. I could have helped-' 

'How can you help?' Ash retorts, voice harsh. 'It's not like you can turn back time! It's not like this is your fault! And it's not like you can make it better!' 

Chris recoils, taking a step back. His features become blank, almost impersonal. It's the same expression he has when he makes a decision that's hard and harsh, but needs to be done. His voice remains soft though, 'If you think I can't help, I think I should head off.' Then Chris walks to the door, his stride gaining his usual confidence. Ash knows that stride, knows Chris is back to being Captain Pike, temporary captain of the U.S.S. Discovery. In the door however the man turns. For a moment he wavers, somewhere between Captain and Chris as he says, 'Please, have that hand looked at it.' 

The door closes behind him, leaving Ash sitting where he is, naked, quickly becoming lost in his emotions. There is anger at L'Rell. Anger at himself for allowing this to happen. Again. Fear at this always being there, at this never going away. It pulls at him, tries to pull him deeper to where he is back there when it happens. And then realisation hits like cold water. Chris has left. What worse, Ash doesn't know, if he is going to return. Shit, he buries his head in his hands, smearing blood over his forehead. A shiver runs through down his spine. He exhales. Shit. He just lost the best thing that has happened to him in a while. In a long while. 

He cannot fall apart now, he needs to get to medbay before starting to work. Gathering himself proves to be harder than he thought it would be. He tells himself he never should have expected Chris to stay. After all they had never talked about what is between them. About their relationship, they simply had fallen into a pattern of meals, a night cap and sex. But that doesn't explain the soft moments they spend together - soft moments such as waking up together, sharing a quick peck on the lips in private just before leaving for their shifts and reading reports or books curled up underneath a blanket on Chris' couch. 

Ash tries to collect himself. Or shove his thoughts to the back of his mind. To put them in a drawer to think about later. Then he draws a deep breathe in, holds it and exhales. He repeats it once, twice, thrice. Standing up is difficult, stepping into the shower is easier, and as he gets ready, his mind goes blissfully blank, body working on auto-pilot. 

Pollard asks him what he has done. He can't recall what he responds, but she isn't convinced. The day doesn't get any better, as he is mindlessly moving along because he feels like if he stops, he is going to fall apart. 

He makes it to lunch, avoiding most people he knows, and especially Chris. Not that that is hard because Chris apparently hasn't come down during his mid-shift break for food. Staying away from everyone doesn't appear to work though because Michael puts her tray down before seating her herself across from him. She gives him a long stare, intense and soul-searching, before stating, 'What's wrong?' 

'What gives you that idea?' Ash asks, trying act as casual as possible. He takes a spoon of the soup he doesn't even taste. It looks green though. Perhaps broccoli? 

She sighs, her expression going soft, 'Something is wrong with you. You are on edge.' She reaches out, putting a hand on his arm, slow and gentle, giving him enough time to pull away, 'and tense.' 

He swallows, anxiety beginning to claw at his throat, but he doesn't pull away. Looking into her eyes, he is reminded of why it had been so easy to fall in love with her. Or maybe he fell in love with the idea of her. She is calm and gentle, an amazing smile, and yet so sure in her abilities. He admires her intelligence, her loyalty, her kind nature. And yet he also realises maybe he has only ever liked her because she should have been unobtainable, repelled by his brokenness or rejecting his advances because she wasn't interested. Instead she did neither, revealing her own flaws and breaks in the process. 

Maybe if things had gone differently they could have become a couple, could have helped each other. But nonetheless he finds himself valuing their friendship. He enjoys her kind nature, her sharp mind and the smiles, which slowly become more frequent in their appearance in his presence. 

Right now though she is looking at him, worry in his eyes. It pulls him away from his musings, and he sighs, 'It's-' he breaks off, 'Could we talk about this elsewhere? Somewhere that is not the mess hall?' 

'Alright, let's eat first. Did I tell you about the Tilly's newest ideas about shifting through the data of the sphere?' 

He shakes his head. With a small smile she begins to talk. He listens, slowly beginning to relax. 

It grows again when they have finished and are walking back to his quarters. He only remembers when he walks through the door, he hasn't cleaned up as there is still broken glass. Neither the nightstand have been straightened nor has the bed been tidied. 

Michael frowns, as her concern for him grows. She turns towards him, tilting her head, 'That's blood - are you alright?' 

'Yes, I've already visited Doctor Pollard,' he responds, anxiously rubbing the place where the wound had been. 

Michael steps forward, 'What's happened?' She reaches out, putting her hand on his, making him stop, the given comfort quietening his anxiety. It makes it easier to speak, with her being close, a reminder that he is on the Discovery. Among friends, he adds in his head, carefully, his heart not quite believing it. 

'I - It's a long story, but I - I am somewhat seeing someone, which is complicated, but we- we have had sex, a couple of times now and it was fine. Or at least I thought it was.' Ash sighs, swallowing. 

Michael squeezes his hands, but she thankfully remains quiet, giving him enough time to sort his mind. 

'I had a flashback this morning. I pushed them off and - I don't know where we stand. Perhaps I should have told them, but having them close- It meant a lot to enjoy sex again and - We should have talked about my experiences, shouldn't we?' He has gone quieter towards the end. He isn't even sure, if Michael has made sense of what he has said. 

'Ash,' Michael starts. She is conflicted, hesitant in her movement, but then it melts into a warm expression on her face, 'I am not sure, what to tell you - and I am not sure what you want to hear from me. First, you finding someone to explore yourself with, after what has happened, is something I am very grateful for. You deserve good things happen to you. I hope you know that.' 

He doesn't respond, simply giving her a small, sad smile before dropping his gaze. Her hand still rests on his, a comforting, warm weight. 

After giving him another squeeze, she continues, 'But second, I recommend that you are open with your partner. Try to communicate with them. And so yes, I think you should have told them about your experiences, but what is done, is done. We can only move forward.' The last sentence she says with conviction, her small smile turning bigger. And even though her words have furthered his anxiety in some ways, her presence grounds him. 

Ash lets his hands drop, then leans forward and hugs her. She responds immediately, her arms coming up around his waist, holding him close and he cannot put into words the gratefulness for her in his life. 

'But how am I going to tell him?' he whispers into her hair. 

If Michael notices his slip-up, she doesn't comment, 'Be open and be yourself. I cannot imagine someone of this crew being disrespectful of your experiences. They are going to support you no matter what. Especially if they can like you with that scruffy beard.' 

'Not a fan?' Ash responds, rubbing over it, which earns him a chuckle and a shake of her head. He doesn't share her optimism. However having confirmation that he needs to talk to Chris is making his heart lighter. He needs to set the record straight. At least that much he owes it to him. 

The light-heartedness disappears and Michael moves away from him, putting some distance between them. She gives him a loop-sided smile, 'I'm sure you will manage just fine.' She hesitates, then adds, 'Have you thought about seeing a therapist?' 

'It's complicated,' he replies. 'It's not like anyone has any idea on what to do with - well, me.' 

'But you could talk about other things than Voq. Maybe learn to communicate better,' 

'I think about,' he smiles at her, though it's tired and exhausted, 'I promise.' 

'Alright. Let's head off - we still got work to do.' 

Together they leave, shoulders brushing, and Ash feels strangely at ease. He is going to speak with Chris after the end of their shift. With that resolve, focussing on work suddenly becomes easier.

* * *

Ash rubs his hands together, thumb brushing over the freshly healed skin on his palm. Then he rings the bell to Chris' quarters. He takes a step back to put some distance between Chris and the door, unsure if he is welcome. Out of a sudden he isn't even sure if that this has been a good idea, if he should have given Chris more time. But he feels like if he lets this matter fester between them, he is never going to speak with Chris. 

A moment later the door opens. Chris stands in the doorframe, surprise on his face, but then it morphs into a warm if slightly unsure smile. 'Ash,' he says, then closes his mouth as if he doesn't know what else to say. 

'Can I come in?' Ash asks instead. He tries to return Chris' smile, but he is too nervous. Again he rubs his hands. 

'Of course,' Chris steps back, gesturing to invite him in. 

Ash has been to Chris' quarters before, but he is always surprised by how inviting they are. Even though the post on the Discovery is temporary, Chris has brought a multitude of blankets and warm, orange lamps while books and PADDs are scattered everywhere. For some reason the room always appears warmer to Ash. It feels comfortable, almost like coming home, reminding him of evening spent on the porch, time among shelves overflowing with books, and eating dinner at the family table. 

The door closes behind him. Usually he would have turned towards Chris, would have kissed him and most likely they would have already started to get rid off their clothes, the day having fuelled their hunger for each other. 

'Would you like something to drink?' Chris asks instead. Ash turns towards him, just in time to see his fist clench and then unclench. Apparently he isn't the only one who is nervous. 

So, he nods, 'I'd take whatever you are having.' 

'Tequila then?' Chris steps over to the small side table. He fills two glasses, hands fumbling a bit. As he gives one to Ash, their fingers brush. Their touch lingers. Neither of them wants to break the connection. This, along with Chris' small smile, eases some of his nerves. Not nearly enough to feel ready for this conversation. Then again he isn't sure whether he could ever do this. 

But he takes a sip, relishing the burn against his throat. His eyes are drawn to Chris, who has -as always- loosened his collar before taking a sip himself. For a moment he thinks that maybe they could do this without talking, but deep down he knows they should. Michael's word are still fresh in his mind. 

'We need to talk about this morning.' 

'I-,' Chris starts. 'Yes, we should. Would you mind telling me what happened?' 

'It's not an easy story to tell. Or to listen to.' 

'We've got alcohol.' A loop-sided smile plays around Chris' lips for the briefest of moment. Ash responds to it with a quick quirking up of the corners of his mouth. 

'How much do you know of about my imprisonment and everything that entails?' He asks. Dread begins to rise within him. 

Chris frowns, thinking and twirling the liquid in his glass. 'I know about Voq, but little else what happened there.' 

Ash nods. His throat is tight. He takes in a shaky breath, 'Voq and L'Rell were lovers. She liked riding him and- when I started to recall Voq's memories, those were the first memories. I thought she raped me.' He takes in a deep, shuddering breath, a shiver running through him. 

'May I touch you?' Chris asks. 

Ash looks up and he nods. Chris steps carefullyl towards him, then takes his hand. His thumb brushes over the back of Ash's hand. Ash's gaze flickers down to them. Chris' hand is warm, almost hot. A simple touch shouldn't be that comforting.

'It's-' he starts again. 'The sex between Voq and L'Rell has been consensual, but it left me-' he doesn't want to say violated, somehow the word too close to being a victim, but he doesn't know what to say instead. He shivers, suddenly feeling cold. Chris steps closer to him, hand tightening around his. 

When he doesn't know, how he can continue or if there is anything else he needs to explain, Ash looks into blue eyes. He doesn't find pity in them, but there is so much emotion in them Ash cannot even begin to decipher them. There is empathy, tenderness and Ash wants to lean forward, kiss those lips and make those eyes slide shut because he isn't sure if he can withstand their intensity. 

When Chris speaks, his voice is as emotional as his eyes, 'I'm sorry. I didn't know. We should have spoken about this sooner, we should have made our limits clear from the start. And I shouldn't have pushed you this morning. You shouldn't have needed to explain- to relive-' he stammers, breaking off. During his speech his gaze has dropped to their hands and when he looks up, uneasiness and apprehension is on his face. Then it settles into determination, 'But we can do this together.' 

'Why would you? This is something I have to deal with. The sex between us is great, but you shouldn't put up with -well, damaged goods-' 

'You are not damaged goods. And you shouldn't talk about yourself that way. Yes, you have your problems, but so have I and so has everyone else,' Chris' voice is strong, his jaw determined, and what has Ash done to receive the attention of such an honest and good man? He is about to speak, but Chris just steamrolls over him, 'Also, I want to put up with you. Not just because of the sex. Though the sex is great, but it's not the only reason I enjoy spending time with you.' Colour rises to his cheeks, and he presses his lips together. 'Though we should probably talk more.' 

'I'm sorry. I should have-' 

'No, don't apologise for that. Your feelings are valid. I shouldn't have pushed you this morning.' 

'Your feelings are valid too, and you were worried about me,' Ash points out. He swallows. That is something he isn't used to - people being concerned for him. It's not something he has dealt with Michael well before, and now, realising Chris has been worried for him, makes him uncomfortable as well. 

Chris smiles, slow, open and honest, and it's been a while since Ash has seen that smile from him. He tugs at Ash's hand and their lips meet, soft, closed-mouthed and unhurried. They break apart. 

'We should talk about our boundaries,' Chris mutters. He takes a step back, not letting go off Ash as he pulls the other one towards the couch. Ash lets himself be lead and sinks down, their intertwined hands coming to a rest on Chris' thigh.

Talking about boundaries is not something he has thought they were going to need - either because this would be fleeting or because he has never needed to talk about this before. He doesn't even know where to start. Thankfully Chris has no such problems. 

'So, me riding you?' Chris' hand gives him a slight squeeze. It's warm and soft - just like his voice and Ash looks up from their intertwined hands. 

'Probably not something we should try that soon,' Ash responds drily. His voice is even, even though his emotions are all over the place, relief and feeling secure being the most relevant though. 

'It's good we are speaking about this,' Chris murmurs. His gaze is still on their hands as he leans against Ash's shoulder. 

'Why is it good for me to unload that onto you? Sex should be fun and spontaneous, not a minefield to be navigated.' 

'That's not a minefield. We can do so many other things.' 

'I still don't see how that is fair to you. At times bloody everything can set me off,' his grip tightens around Chris in anger at himself, but he immediately loosens it. 

'We will see about that, when we come to those. After all, we had some great times as well. Besides, we don't need sex to be together,' Chris responds with a surety Ash is amazed with. It makes him realise there is indeed the possibility of more between them and he hasn't realised he needed that assurance. It settles something inside of him, calms some of the nervousness. 

'It's-' Ash doesn't know what he wants to stay, only that he is still going to protest, but Chris continues. 

'I don't enjoy being strangled.' 

Ash closes his mouth, surprised at hastiness of the statement. He is about to ask what that has to with anything, but Chris is already speaking, words almost tumbling out of his mouth, 'I had a boyfriend, who was into rougher sex. He enjoyed pushing me down on his cock, so I could barely breathe. Once he squeezed my throat and told me, he liked the way I tightened around him when I was trying to take a breath. So, you don't like me sitting on top of you while I don't like to being choked. Or really anything close to my throat.' 

Chris' hand had tightened during those words. Only now he relaxes, however Ash can tell by the way Chris shifts, fingers fumbling with his collar and pulling the zipper further down, he hasn't liked talking about it.

'But kissing and nibbling?'

'Oh, more than okay,' a blush begins to form on Chris' cheeks. 'Though maybe watch where the collar ends next time.' 

They fall silent for a moment before Ash speaks again, thinking back to the darkness of the penitentiary. 'Perhaps leaving the lights on,' he starts, but then closes his mouth. It sounds childish to phrase it like that, but he wants to know it's Chris. 

Chris nods, expression serious, 'I love watching you anyway.' His cheeks colour as he realises, what he has said, 'Well, what I meant to say is, I rather-' he breaks off when Ash cannot help the chuckle escaping him. 

'I don't mind you watching me,' quite frankly it sounds like a huge turn-on, and if Ash hasn't thought enogh about Chris' eyes, filled with need, on him, he is definitely thinking about it now. He shifts, which causes those damned eyes to focus on him. 'Anything that you don't want to-?' 

Chris' tears his attention away from Ash's lips, 'Huh? I -ah, don't like to be surprised in bed. By which I mean I am not opposed to try things out, but perhaps tell me beforehand. It might be best for both of us to adhere to that.' 

Ash nods, before frowning, 'I'd thought it was a given - not springing surprises in bed at each other.' 

'Sometimes it is not,' Chris points out, averting his gaze, and taking a gulp from his tequila. It appears not to be something he wants to elaborate on. 

It makes Ash think about how he maybe isn't the only one with some baggage. It makes it easier to admit, 'Rough sex is out. At least for now.' 

'Alright,' Chris focuses immediately back on the conversation, 'What does that mean especially for you? Because it sounds like something we could have different views on.' 

Ash inhales, 'Biting, scratching, being held down.' 

Chris nods, thoughtful, 'What about, if you are the one holding me down?' 

'I haven't thought about that,' Ash frowns. Holding Chris down? He hasn't thought that would be something the other one would like to do. But the image of holding Chris' wrists, pin him to the bed and have him wreathe against him. He isn't unopposed to that. No, not at all. In fact the more he thinks about having Chris at his mercy, the more he wants to. 

He shifts, need beginning to pool in his groin, 'If it is something you want to try, I suppose we could.' 

'Yes, I'd like that,' Chris responds. It's too quickly, almost breathless, and he is trying to sound unimpressed. But Ash can see him swallow before shifting. Chris drains the rest of his tequila, and Ash follows suit, thoughts of Chris very much prominent in his mind. 

'Is there anything else we need to talk about?' Ash asks, voice deeper as he watches Chris' lips against the rim of the glass, 'Because, for the moment, I think, we could some of what we spoke about to practise.' 

'No, there is nothing further right now, we need to speak about,' Chris' eyes are on his lips again, then he shakes his head. His pupils are wide, only a slight ring of the blue-grey remaining. Standing up he takes Ash's glass. As he walks over to the side, Ash's gaze linger on Chris' arse. 

He stands up to follow Chris. After the captain has put their glasses down, Ash pulls him close and kisses those amazing lips. Chris opens up to him, one hand coming to a rest on Ash's shoulder, a moan escaping him. Ash presses closer. Chris responds to him, easily and hungrily. He moves his leg between Chris' thigh, feeling the other man's growing erection. 

Chris breaks away after a moment, breathing quicker, and he gives Ash a radiant smile. Then he grows more serious, leaning close and pressing a soft kiss against Ash's lips, 'I need you to take charge though,' Chris whispers against his mouth, their noses brushing. 

'Take charge, huh?' Ash asks, grin spreading over his face. Desire begins to grow quickly witin him, the thought of pining Chris down still fresh on his mind. He pushes Chris back, towards the bed, and Chris goes willingly, letting himself fall back on the bed, gaze taking appreciatively Ash in. 

Ash crawls on top of him, pushing Chris further onto the bed to chase those thin, delicious lips. He reaches for Chris' wrists, then pins them above his head. The reaction is instanenous. A groan, tempering off into a whimper. A shiver runs through the body beneath him. Then Chris bucks up against him, testing his limits. It's of little use against Ash's strength. Ash smiles, then grins the more he sees Chris flushing. He begins to kiss along Chris' jaw, nibbles along it, which earns him gasps and makes Chris arch up against him, again and again straining against his grip. 

He places one last kiss again Chris' adam's apple before moving way. He watches Chris exhale, a flush beginning to rise on his cheeks. A soft whine passes his lips, which makes Ash lean up and capture those lips again. Shifting his grip, he uses only one hand to hold onto Chris' wrist. He could possibly try to fight it, if Chris uses those legs of his, but he remains, where he is, accepting what Ash is offering eagerly. 

A rush of desire runs through, making him almost dizzy. He wonders what he could do to Chris, what Chris would let him do. He recalls their first time in the shuttle with Chris spread out on the shuttle floor. A shudder runs through him as an idea begins to form. 

He shifts his weight, sitting back on Chris' thighs, pushing down, and against him. It makes their half-hard erection brush. His hand moves on to his collar, loosening it, before moving to the zipper and pulling his top open. 

Another moan passes Chris' lips. His eyes wander over Ash's revealed skin, his neck, chest, abdomen. Even though he doesn't fight the grip, Ash feels the tendons straining in his grip as Chris hands tighten to fists. Chris' cheeks darken further, he buckles up against Ash, clearly wishing for more friction. 

'When I let go, how about you get rid of your shirt?' Ash whispers, smile spreading over his face. 

'We could also get rid off the trousers,' Chris points out. He licks his lips, eyes trailing over Ash's chest, down his stomach before settling on his groin. 

Ash chuckles. He lets go of Chris' wrist. Chris' hands fly to his shirt, tugging at it, before he begins to strip off his shirt. He sits up as he pulls off his top and Ash leans forward to give him a quick peck on the lips. A smile spreads across Chris' face and he responds with another peck as he tries to get his own shirt off. It continues as they wiggle out of their trousers and underwear until they are laughing into their kisses, which only subsides, when Ash finally puts his hands on those strong shoulders to feel that skin beneath his fingers. 

Chris presses closer, his hands coming to a rest on Ash's hips, massaging that skin there, and Ash groans as those damned hands move further back, kneading his arse. Chris' cock digs into Ash's thigh. With a start he realises, he wants more, wants to feel that inside of himself. 

But then they are finally back to kissing again, with warm hands roaming over scarred skin. He relishes in it, enjoys them taking their time and in Chris' quiet, desperate noises. 

At some point he can barely take it anymore. He reaches for the nightstand, his lips brushing over Chris's forehead. Opening the bottle proves difficult. He almost manages to spill lube all over Chris' bed. Then, however, he reaches behind himself, one finger pushing in. He continues their kissing, enjoys Chris' firm body beneath him, especially when Chris bucks up into him, trying to get him to move faster. 

He opens himself up, the occasional groan escaping him. It gets swallowed up by their kisses. Chris grows more urgent, his hands moving quicker, stroking over Ash's back. Their kisses get sloppier, wetter, their erections brushing against each other. He cannot get himself ready fast enough, almost loses his balance because he wants this to go faster, wants to sink onto Chris' cock. A soft curse falls from his lips as he adds another finger and maybe it's a bit too soon because it hurts, a slight burn, and he grimaces into the kiss. 

'Easy, we've got time,' Chris whispers against his lips. He moves one hand to Ash's face, his thumb brushing over his cheek, the gesture gentle. Ash closes his eyes, a wave of emotions washing over him. He nuzzles against the hand, collecting himself a bit. Chris smiles softly. He continues brushing over Ash's cheek. His other hand comes to a rest on Ash's neck.

'Want you now,' Ash mouths against those beautiful lips, as he leans down again. It earns him a soft groan, Chris pressing closer against him. Ash adds another finger, the third, and he knows it won't be much longer, until he has Chris inside of him. 

Finally he can't take it anymore, he needs the other man inside of him, needs Chris now. He sits up, and having Chris beneath him is somehow even more arousing. His hair is a mess, strands everywhere, some plastered to his forehead, his cheeks are flushed, a deep red, a stark contrast against his pale skin. His breathing is quick, chest almost heaving, and then their eyes meet. Chris' are blown, his pupils dilated, only the slightest of blue remaining. There is something else there, something that can almost be described as wander. 

It makes him pause. He can't remember anyone ever looking at him like that. He hasn't thought anyone would ever look like that at him, like Chris actually wants to be here with him, regards as him as something to be revered, something to be cherished. It shows in the way he reaches out, traces the scars on Ash's skin, the gentleness and the care in each touch, each movement. It's almost too much. 

He runs a hand over Chris' stomach, lower, until he reaches the other one's cock. It earns him a moan, Chris almost bucking up into it, even as he tries to control himself. Ash smiles, adjust his grip. Then he starts to sink down on Chris. A moan passes his lips, almost chocked off. Chris is stretching -no, not just stretching, but filling- him in just the right way. He sinks down, eyes closed, until he can't anymore. When he opens them again, he looks down at Chris. Chris, who has bitten down on his lips, whose hands are fisted in the blanket, and who swallows. Their eyes meet, blue and brown, and Ash rolls his hips, slow and deep. 

A moan. He isn't sure, if it comes from Chris or him. Either way, it sparks pleasure deep within him. He does it again. Beneath Chris shifts, his hands fluttering to Ash' thighs, not holding, not even pressing down, but there. Ash reaches for them. He takes Chris' wrists again, then pushes them over his head, pinning Chris down again, grip tight on the other one. 

Then he begins to move, not so much up and down, but rolling. Chris responds to him so easily, so honestly, soft pants coming from him, body pressing up into him. He moves with Ash though, slow and sensual, pushing into him, at the pace Ash is setting. Having Chris beneath his amazing, empowering. Pleasure begins to build somewhere deep inside of him, hot and strong.

He lets himself fall into that, enjoying every moment to the fullest and it's freeing in a way he hasn't thought. Distantly he thinks he couldn't do this with someone else, really anyone else, but Chris is here, giving himself over so passionately. 

Ash reaches for the his cock, the lube on his hands enough to give him enough of a glide. Chris strains against Ash's grip, a whine escaping him, and it's intimate, almost too much and he can't help the noises he makes.

They begin to move faster, falling into a rhythm, a thrust makes him shift, then it brushes against his bundle of nerves inside of him. It makes him gasp, makes him move faster. Pleasure building and damn, it feels good to be taking it, to be owning it again. 

It builds further and further. Sweats runs down his back, Chris' pushes up against him, moans fill the quiet of the room. And then he can't hold on anymore. He spills over their stomachs, a gasp coming from his lips as he squeezes his eyes shut, pleasure overwhelming, and Chris follows suit, bucking up into in with a broken moan. Shivers run through him, soft groans, as he twitches inside Ash. 

Ash's breathing calms, he takes a deep breath in, holds it, then exhales. He shivers, the air suddenly cold and he lets go of Christ's wrists, who doesn't hesitate and puts his arms around Ash's neck. He pulls Ash down, breath tickling Ash's ear. Sinking into that embrace is even better than the sex they just had, even as Chris slips from him and his sensitive cock is trapped between them. They should probably get cleaned up soon though. But for the moment he is content, where he is. 

A kiss is pressed against the crown of his head, 'Are you alright?' 

Ash looks up, eyes half-lidded. He nods, his beard brushing against Chris' neck. It earns him a chuckle and half-hearted squirm. 

Chris makes an inquiring sound, which makes Ash recall the question. 'Yes,' he mumbles, 'Yes, I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be? Sex was great. You are great.' 

Chris' chest moves with the chuckle. He pulls Ash tighter. His lips are close to Ash's ear when he whispers, 'Thanks, I enjoyed this as well.' Chris winces though as he moves his right wrist. Some of the sleepiness evaporates, leading Ash to ask, 'Are you alright?' 

Chris smiles at him, bumping his nose against Ash's, 'Everything's spledid. A bit sore, but nothing that would need to be attended right now. I want to be right here.' 

They aren't ready for l-words, not yet, but Ash feels like this could more. They are going to build up to likes and loves, but for now they are on the right track. He curls into Chris, shifting his weight to his side, but leaving one leg over Chris, 'What about you? Was that taking enough charge for you? 

'Yes, we could do that again,' Chris places another kiss against Ash's temple, before he moves, pulling the blanket over them, 'But after we sleep, yeah?' It's slightly slurred, the other man almost ready to drop off. Ash cannot help the smile forming on his face. He wants to respond, but before he can think of something, he falls asleep, strangely content.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I really hope you enjoyed it because this has been really interesting to write - comments, kudos and constructive critism appreciated :)
> 
> Also, I've discovered, I barely know anything about using commas in punctuation. So, if they seem erractic and wrong - please, tell me about it. After all, English isn't my mother tongue and I really try to impove through writing fanfiction.


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